


Nightmares

by Ein_The_Corgi



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Ein is a good doggo, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jet has PTSD, Jet is a such a supportive dad friend, Other, Safe For Work, Spike has PTSD, faye is clueless but she tries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ein_The_Corgi/pseuds/Ein_The_Corgi
Summary: Spike has PTSD as a result of his life in the Red Dragons. A set of one-shots exploring how it affects his interactions with the rest of the crew.





	1. Jet

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this would be an interesting idea to explore, as PTSD is something many people who grew up in dangerous neighborhoods have to live with. Being a former gangster who was involved in likely countless violent events, Spike's probably no exception... It could also explain why he's so apathetic at times, and not to mention the whole thing about his right eye only seeing the past. Jet probably has to live with it to some degree as well as a result of what happened to him.
> 
> I don't have PTSD myself, but I did do some research and I tried my best to portray it as realistically as possible.

Spike flopped himself down on the yellow couch after a long day of chasing bounties. Jet, his new business partner and roommate, had gone off to a local town to spend his share of the spoils. Spike didn't know or frankly even care exactly where he'd gone- All he knew was that he was absolutely exhausted. Today's bounty had been a particularly slippery catch, and on top of that there was the constant nagging fear that someone could be out to get him at any moment that his life as an enforcer in the Red Dragons had left him with. That fear alone was usually enough to leave Spike drained at the end of the day, but adding the challenging bounty to the mixture meant Spike was pretty much running on empty even though it wasn't even dinner time yet. Without giving a shit about what Jet might say, Spike put his still-shoed feet on the couch and lay down in an attempt to take a nap.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was his teenaged self again. He had been walking home alone from school when he was jumped by a group of three White Tigers who had been sent to get back at the Red Dragons (and Mao in particular) by any means possible as a result of their ongoing turf war. Upon recognizing him as a friend of Mao's, they had sprung upon him with knives. He evaded their first flurry of attacks and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He ducked into an alley in an attempt to lose them, but he soon found himself cornered, armed with only his fists and with the three of them quickly approaching. Luckily, Mao had taught him a couple of things about martial arts. He clenched his fists and tried to assume a fighting stance.

"Huh, only three of you." he said, attempting to feign confidence. "Come at me. I may not have a weapon, but I'll take you all on if I have to."  
  
"You're Spike, aren't you? Mao's little project?" said the middle Tiger, advancing even closer. "Heh, I'm gonna enjoy this... in fact, why even use a knife? I don't know about the other two goons here, but I know I can break you bare-handed." He dropped his weapon on the ground with a crash, grabbed Spike by his collar and thrust him against the brick wall, shaking him. "Tell Mao this is for my brother, Spike!"  
  
But Spike was not the kind who would go down easy. He gave a swift kick, catching his attacker off-guard, followed by a hard left square in the jaw-  
  
"OW! SPIKE!"  
  
-But the voice wasn't that of his attacker. Spike jolted to his senses. He looked around. He was no longer in that dark alleyway, but laying on the couch in the Bebop's living area. Home, where he SHOULD feel safe. It was just another nightmare... And there in front of him stood Jet, having returned from his shopping trip, rubbing his jaw painfully.  
  
"Shoot Spike, that must have been some dream you were having..." said Jet "You were sound asleep when I got home, so I went ahead and made dinner. I came back in to let you know it was ready and you were whimpering a bit, but I didn't know it was that bad..."  
  
Spike sat up and rubbed his eyes, still exhausted even though he had slept.  
  
"Yeah, it was." he said. "Sorry about that... but just for the record, next time it happens -and it WILL happen again- don't try to wake me up unless you really have to, because it might not just be a punch in the face next time. I might really hurt you, and I don't want to do that. It's happened before."  
"Shoot, Spike..."  said Jet, looking concerned. "How often do they happen... these nightmares?"  
  
"Only damn near every night..." replied Spike.  
  
"Are they about anything in particular?" asked Jet, tilting his head to one side like the giant 'black dog' that he was. "If you don't mind me asking."  
  
Spike pondered the idea of telling his new acquaintance the details of his nightmares. No, that conversation would have to wait. He had only lived here for a few days, and his life with the Red Dragons had taught him that people could act like your best friend one day and quite literally stab you in the back the next. As such, he didn't quite trust him yet. He didn't trust anyone, really... Besides, Jet was a former cop, and he thought it might be best to show him that he could live on the right side of the law before revealing anything about his criminal past.  
  
"Not anything in particular that you need to know about right now." he finally answered, with a serious expression on his face. "Let's just say that my life hasn't exactly been sunshine and rainbows."  
  
Even though Spike had not revealed anything, Jet understood what he was getting at. He'd met many people in the ISSP who had gone through unimaginable experiences and had the mental scars to show for it. Hell, he'd never been quite the same himself after losing his arm- and he still had dreams about that sometimes.  
  
"Hm, fair enough." he said with an eyes-closed nod. "I take it you're one of those guys who've had it hard in life, huh? You a soldier or something?"  
  
"I guess you could say that." replied Spike. "But not the kind you're probably thinking of. Seen my fair share of combat, though."  
  
Spike paused, giving Jet a rather icy glare.  
  
"Let's leave it at that. Please."  
  
Jet knew better than to push the issue any further. Spike's demons were his own and they would come out in due time, as would his. Besides, if Spike's dreams were terrifying enough for him to violently lash out upon being woken up, he was probably better off not knowing anyway.  
"Alright, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I get dreams like that too, so I don't blame ya..." Jet said. "But if you ever need someone to listen, I'm always here. Anyways, the food's ready."  
  
Jet turned away and started off for the kitchen.  
  
"What'd ya make?" asked Spike from the couch.  
  
"That dish you said was your favorite a few days ago- bell peppers and beef." answered Jet. "Thought it'd be nice to have something a little more expensive for a change."  
  
"Awesome." said Spike, smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. "Thanks- for that and... just offering to be there if I need it."  
  
Jet smiled as he continued walking to the kitchen. Spike had already proven himself to be a skilled bounty hunter and certified asshole, but he could already tell that there was so much more to that idiot than what he let on.


	2. Ein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ein figures out a way to calm Spike down after another nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that being a data dog, Ein would understand what was going on to some extent...
> 
> Also, PTSD service dogs are a real thing. These dogs are trained to notice when their handlers are getting anxious and calm them down, as well as other things, including interrupting nightmares.

Ein knew from the first hour that he'd spent with Jet and Spike that they were not ordinary people. First of all, they got angry when he marked the couch as his new territory, but they didn't hit him. They didn't make him do mindless puzzles over and over again all day, and the collar they gave him didn't shock him no matter what he did. Spike in general didn't always seem to appreciate his presence, but even he was friendlier than most humans Ein had known beforehand. He at least gave him a proper name and treated him like a living being... but still, something seemed off about the two of them in that they always seemed to be a little on-edge. Jet at least was usually honest about it. Spike however was always trying to be the calm and collected one, but Ein was never fooled by his façade. Ein was a dog, and a genius dog at that. He could smell right through it!

The night that they had brought him home, Ein decided that he would start making a nightly round of the ship. These two idiots had rescued him from a whole bunch of even bigger idiots, so protecting the home they had welcomed him into was the least he could do. Besisdes, everyone was sleeping so it wasn't like he would be in anyone's way. So he trotted onwards to his first stop of the night: the living area.

Ein poked his head through the hallway entrance. He looked around. It was dark, but there was nothing that looked to be too out of the ordinary. Spike had crashed on the couch, but Ein didn't need eyes to know that- he could smell his cigarette breath from miles away. Even though visually everything looked okay, Ein still wasn't so sure... He decided to sniff the air a little.

_There WAS something wrong!_

Ein noticed that the hint of fear that Spike's scent usually had was FAR more amplified than usual. Upon closer inspection, Ein saw that Spike was whimpering a little in his sleep, like he'd seen the other dogs do when they were having vivid dreams. It didn't take a genius dog to put two and two together: Something in Spike's dream was scaring him, badly.

Ein decided that he had to do something... but what? He had overheard Spike earlier demanding that he be kept out of his room as he didn't like being woken up and might hurt him... Could this be why? Ein sat down next to the couch and whined, wondering what he should do. He had to calm him down somehow, but how to do it without getting hurt?

That's when Ein remembered the long wooden spoon he'd seen Jet put on the kitchen counter earlier when he was making dinner. It was the perfect solution: a way to prod Spike while still putting some space between them. He trotted off to his new destination to complete his mission. Jet had told him "no" the last time he'd put his paws on the counter, but Ein decided that sometimes it was okay to break the rules a little if he had to. Besides, nobody could see him. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach the countertop. He was just too short... so to give himself some extra height, he pushed one of the various food-containing boxes to the counter's edge like he had done many times before in those countless experiments. Using the box as a sort of footstool, he was able to reach the countertop to retrieve his prize.

Spoon in tow, Ein returned to the living room. Spike was still dreaming whatever horrible vision his mind had conjured up. Gripping the very tip of the handle with his teeth, Ein carefully nudged Spike's face a couple of times, taking care to put as much space between them as possible. When Spike didn't wake up, he nudged him a little harder. Spike STILL didn't wake up, so Ein tried a third time. That time, it was more of a poke than a nudge.

Spike awoke with a start, which in turn startled Ein and made him jump back, dropping the spoon. Spike was on his feet in seconds. He was looking every which way for any potential threat, clearly ready to defend himself.

"Where am I?" he said, nervous. That's when he noticed the Corgi sitting at his feet, whining. "Ein...?" He looked around once more and realized he was safe at home. He sat down, putting his face in his hands. "Ugh, another one..." he groaned.

Ein jumped up on his lap, enthusiastically trying to lick his new owner's face. "Ein, stop it! I'm not in the mood right now!" He snapped, pushing the dog away.

Ein wasn't planning on stopping any time soon, however. After all, he wouldn't be a good dog if he didn't try to make his owner happy, would he? His plan was working so far- Spike already seemed much calmer than he had been a few minutes ago- but his job wasn't done yet by any means. He picked up the spoon from where it had fallen and presented it to Spike, attempting to distract him by initiating a game of some sort. He gave another soft whine.

"How did you get that!? You haven't been chewing on that, have you?" said Spike.

Ein responded by simply jumping into his owner's lap again. Again Spike tried to push him away, but Ein turned his head away as he did so, walloping him in the face with the spoon.

"Ow! Ein, give me that!" Spike yelled, reaching for the spoon.

But Ein was too fast for him. He raced around the back of the couch to the other side. When he was back at Spike's feet, he dropped the spoon before giving an enthusiastic play bow and barking.

Spike couldn't help but laugh a little bit. There was something about a little short-legged dog trying to play with a wooden spoon that was just too funny. It slowly dawned on him what the dog was trying to do. He picked up the wooden spoon.

"Ein..." he said, holding the spoon out at the Corgi. "You woke me up with this, didn't you?"

Ein barked in affirmation. He jumped up into Spike's lap a third time, but this time he wasn't pushed away. Instead, Spike grabbed the dog and held him in his arms. He gave him a big cuddle, which helped soothe the residual anxiety he still had from that horrible vision. Ein didn't dare try to squirm away- Helping his owner calm down had been his goal in the first place. Instead, he resumed his attempts to lick Spike's face.

Spike smiled, turning his head away in a futile attempt to avoid the dog's unrelenting maw.

"Thanks, bud..." he said in between licks. "You're a big help."

Perhaps having a dog on board wouldn't be much trouble, after all...


	3. Faye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faye didn't mean to hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this at 11:30 at night, so I apologize if the ending isn't that great.
> 
> I also didn't think it would be out of character for Faye to perhaps envy Spike just a little bit for simply having something of a past to remember... if anyone finds that insensitive I apologize. That's certainly not how I think.

The first thing Spike noticed as he came back to his senses was the sound of soft singing. While the voice was definitely not that of Julia, it was still enough to bring back memories of the day she and him had met... For a split second he was back in Julia's apartment in Tharsis City, looking up at her and asking her to keep singing, having just woken up after passing out on the street due to blood loss.

The ill-fated mission had been a Red Eye deal gone bad. He, Vicious, and the two other enforcers they had brought with them for security had walked right into another White Tiger trap. The deal had been set to go down at night in a deserted park in a poorer area of the city, but when Spike and his team arrived with the money, their would-be dealers pulled handguns on them. The ensuing bloody shootout had resulted in the deaths of the two enforcers and all four White Tiger men, with Spike almost being the 7th casualty. Spike _would_ have been killed outright had it not been for the timely intervention of Vicious and his expert marksmanship skills. The two enforcers had given their lives trying to protect Spike, and both had suffered... which, contrary to his profession, was not something Spike particularly liked to see and even less so to cause. He would never forget the pain on their faces...

  
Spike would have cried and lashed out in rage had he not been in so much pain. To make things worse, Faye's singing was unbearably bad. At least Julia could actually keep a tune. How he missed her, the angel who had brought him out of that horrible mess and made him see the light...  
Faye was talking to him now, but Spike had been too distracted by his flashback to notice at first. When he _did_ notice, he could only gesture for Faye to come closer so he could say something. She hovered directly over his face, only to have him say...

_"You sing off-key."_

Later that night Faye sat on her bed, pondering what exactly she had done wrong to deserve Spike's anger. What was Spike's problem, anyways!? Sure, she wasn't exactly the greatest singer in the world, and... maybe she'd been a little _too_ rough when she'd jokingly hit him with that pillow as a comeback. That she could understand... But still, it certainly did not warrant him telling her to fuck right off and stay out of his sight for the rest of the night when she'd gone back to apologize.

Unbeknownst to her, Jet (who had also heard the altercation) had trailed behind her. He politely knocked on her door and waited for her answer.

"Come in!" she said.

Jet opened the door and walked in. He stood directly in front of where Faye sat, crossing his arms.

"I just thought I'd come and clear up a few things about Spike." he explained. "You see, Spike's uh... well, he's got some issues he's gotta deal with. As do I."

"I can see that...," Faye replied, sarcastically.

"What I mean is... We've both had some terrible events happen in our lives that we can't forget even though we really don't wanna remember them, and anything that remotely reminds us of them will bring back everything. It's like we're there again, and it's really unpleasant." continued Jet. "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that your singing might have brought up some unpleasant memories for Spike where something similar might have happened, you know? I know you didn't mean to, but it really hurt him."

Oh, so _that_ was why he was mad. _Shit._

"What should I do?" she inquired.

"For now, it's probably best to leave him alone. Maybe bring him a snack later and just sit with him for a bit if he wants. And don't sing around him again." answered Jet. His explanation finished, he turned around to leave. As he did so, he added: "Don't worry, he'll come back around eventually. Just give him some time, okay?"

Faye continued to sit in the dark for a while after Jet had gone, thinking. Even though she couldn't blame him for getting angry at her, she still couldn't help but envy him just a little bit... after all, he at least had a past to remember, even if it wasn't always pleasant. She had nothing.


End file.
